Fallen Angels
by devis cope
Summary: Joseph Legiano has just been executed for a crime he didn't commit in 2078. His priest has just found his diary. Come as we explore what happened in 1990's america as Young Joe helps Lupin and co find a mysterious and dangerous item.


Prologue: Joseph's Execution

Year: 2078

Place: Texas Penitentiary

Joseph Legiano strolled to the execution center with a solemn, but reserved, expression. With a heavy sigh, he looked around him. All the other Death Row inmates gave salutes to him. They knew, and he knew, that he was innocent. But his lawyer couldn't do anything to drop the charges, and it wasn't the lawyer's fault. The 88-year-old man was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Joseph was charged with the murder of ten people, two of them children, in a car bomb, about ten years ago. The trial was pretty much a sensation. The news vilified him but the victims' families were sympathetic. He had said for his defense that someone had asked that he waited near the place where the car bomb was. When it exploded, frightened, he ran off. He was caught by the Texas police two days later. But all the evidence pointed to him. Even evidence that Joseph thought was false. Someone had set him up, and he didn't know who. Even worse, he was sentenced to death within that year. The only reason that the sentenced was delayed was because of the mountains of appeals that stalled it. But all that time ran out.

Joseph was walking with two guards and a priest. He smiled. For most of the years in Death Row, he stayed to himself, and was surprisingly respected by them. He never got the reasons but rumor spread that they actually thought that he was innocent and that unlike others, who continuously bitched out loud to the inmates about it, Joseph stayed quiet. He had met his family, his grown son and two daughters, their spouses and his grandchildren. His wife, who also visited him, died in 2074, due to stress and grief. She was just two years under him. They visited him every month. He was heartbroken that he missed so much, his grandchildren's births, their first words, their first visits to his house, etc. Their smiles have always reassured him that he would somehow persevere.

But then it collapsed. He learned that the sentence couldn't be reversed, that it was due to commence the next day after the trial at 7:00 pm, now today. Joseph was devastated. He would never see his family again. Since he was Catholic, not too devoted but believed in much of the doctrine, he had also prayed everyday for a savior…or a helper to save him. He believed his rescuer was the priest next to him. Four months ago, he came to Joseph's cell, dressed all in black, with the white collar typical of a Catholic priest. The man, who looked fairly young, with grey-colored, oval-framed glasses perched on his ordinary nose. He gave a small smile and had always begun his sessions with him with, "How are you feeling today, Joseph, my son?" Joseph, who kept to himself all the time found himself opening up to the priest, telling him everything about his situation, and of how he was framed. The sessions always lasted for about thirty minutes, the priest barely ever talked, letting Joseph ramble on about his fears, his disgust and other things. The priest listened to him intently, his eyes never straying to his watch, to tell how much time had elapsed. His expression stayed calm, never wavering. When Joseph was done, the priest nodded and said in a calm voice, "I see, my son. You wish to be free of this yoke the Devil has placed upon you. Fear not, good man, for someday soon he will come to set you free. You will understand when the time comes." The priest would sometimes say different things but in essence mean the same thing. He would afterwards leave with a small smile, reassuring Joseph of the priest's sayings, and meet Joseph again next week.

The priest was next to him, now, a neutral expression on his face, as they all made their way to the execution chamber. Joseph noticed some people there that were going to watch him die. The doctor, who would administer the punishment, lethal injection, stood outside an enclosed box. Noticing Joseph, he immediately opened the door. Joseph walked inside and was quickly strapped to the table, the special spot to place his arm for injection felt warm. A bitter smile crossed his face. There was another execution here not too long ago. Texas is now the only state in the US that allows death penalties. This is one of 500 Death Row jails in the state itself. In all, Joseph believed, there were millions of inmates crammed in these places. Joseph was just another number to the group and another number to die. The doctor allowed the priest to stand next to him.

"Please, Father, hold my hand," Joseph said quietly. He tried to fight back the tears and the lump in his throat. The priest nodded and held his non-will-be-used hand. An officer entered the box, taking out the sheet of paper.

He cleared his throat and began, "Joseph Carnagi Legiano, you have been charged with 10 counts of murder in the first degree and have been found guilty on all counts and as such sentenced to death by lethal injection." He finished and left the box. The other officer pressed a button outside the box.

"Do you have any last words?"

Tears poured all over his face. "My only regret is that I'll never see my family and _them_ again." He looked up at the blinding lights. "I'll see you soon, my dear." Joseph couldn't say any more.

"Then let's begin."

Joseph saw the doctor bringing a tray over to Joseph's side. He took a syringe and gently stabbed it in a little bottle filled with a clear liquid. After filling it with a small amount, he took it out and flicked it, to make sure it was working. Joseph didn't struggle and or cry out as the doctor injected the liquid into his arm. Immediately he felt surging pain but it also felt calming. His breathing became shallow and his heartbeat was slowing down. Everything was becoming blurry as his eyes became unfocused. He then saw the faint outline of the priest as he leaned over and whispered something in Joseph's ear. Joseph's eye's widened as he stared at the fading image of the priest. He could no longer work out the words as he was fading but that thought persisted until everything went dark.

"Thank you!"

20 minutes later

The priest slowly walked back to Joseph's cell. What he told him had brought back light in his eyes as he died, his eyes telling the priest, 'Thank you." The priest smiled.

"Glad I can help," he answered. He stopped in front of his cell. It was surprisingly well kept, with a bed, small table and a toilet. The cell was still open so the priest entered. He noticed a thick green notebook on the table. He picked it up, looking at the first page.

His eyes widened. He sat down on the slightly hard bed and began to read the first page.

'Angels have always existed in our world for a long time, and I have always felt that one has been watching over me. He was nothing like the angels of God but instead was, as one would call him and his friends, a "Fallen Angel." Since my impending death is near, through penalty or old age I don't know, I've decided to write this book, a memoir, I suppose some would say, of how I've met my Fallen Angels and how I helped them. I hope that someday someone would read this story not for laughs or for pain but for instead understanding.'


End file.
